This image was lost some time after publication, but you can still view it here.

Outside of a certain Meatpacking District "hotspot" this past Saturday night, a Gawker spy witnessed the following exchange between a tall, 30-ish brunette and the venue's iron-fisted doorman:

Woman: You don t know New York Magazine?
Doorman: No.
Woman: Well, I'm an Assistant Editor there.
Doorman: And?
Woman: You are denying entrance to an Assistant Editor for New York Magazine!? I don t believe it!
Doorman: Believe it.
[Woman walks off in a huff; pushes her way through throngs of B&T girls.]

Poor New York, discriminated by bouncers and newsstands alike. More important than this case of injustice, however, is the identity of this "assistant editor." Seriously, who the hell is this woman? We promise gilded, ambrosia-scented bags of joy to the kind soul who can reveal her identity.